


In a Quiet Room

by slamncram (GettheSalt)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Sakaar (Marvel), Thorki - Freeform, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 08:18:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13454184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/slamncram
Summary: Loki visited Thor after the match on Sakaar. Thor won't remember it, and Loki's not sure why he did it. Maybe just to make sure the idiot wasn't dead. Probably because seeing Thor again woke something up Loki thought he'd done away with, long ago.





	In a Quiet Room

Loki hadn’t been lying when he’d told Thor that he couldn’t jeopardize his position with the Grandmaster.

The man seemed like he was all fun and games. That was kind of his shtick. But under that, as Loki thought Thor had already seen, was a madman. He could smile, and joke, cajole and, in his own way, seduce people to his side, to his way of doing things, but after so long, Loki knew a madman when he’d seen one.

Thanos hadn’t really been much of a step away.

Landing on Sakaar had been, in and of itself, lucky. Loki had floated through space before, and he hadn’t much enjoyed where he’d ended up. Yes, true, he had been given the sceptre, and the leave to conquer earth for Thanos’ army, but everything that had come before that – and a great deal after it – hadn’t truly been worth it. Starved and broken, he’d landed on Thanos’ rock to be turned and used, and he had allowed it to happen. A captive prince, slave to the Titan who served as his salvation from the unending void that space would have given him.

So, landing on Sakaar had, in its way, been good. Loki had known how to handle it, talking and charming his way into a position of safety, impressing the Grandmaster and, as necessary, leading him along, appearing to play into his seductions just to duck out at the crucial moment. He was playing ‘hard to get’, and that just made the Grandmaster like him – and trust him – more. That was important for Loki, now, and it would have been good for Thor, then. They could have worked something out, Loki could have talked the Grandmaster into giving Thor a chance to join himself among the Elites, one of the Grandmaster’s prize friends.

But Thor’s stubborn pride hadn’t allowed for that.

His stubborn pride, and the hurt that Loki had been able to see him wearing like a cloak, when he’d visited him in that dungeon. His distrust of Loki, his belief that they were just too far gone from each other.

Loki couldn’t pretend that didn’t hurt him, a little. He’d lashed out, himself, before he’d left, as he always did. With cutting barbs that, if Thor had the ability to look into them, would have shown themselves to be lies. The Grandmaster had laughed when he’d seen that Loki had placed a sizable wager in _Thor’s_ favour for the match, and asked if he really thought _his_ champion wouldn’t be someone who could defeat even this interesting Lord of Thunder.

Loki hadn’t known then, but he’d hoped otherwise.

And when he had known, he had truly hoped that Thor would make it out of that ring alive. He’d dealt with the Hulk, himself, once, and even if he knew that he was an ally of Thor’s, one of his Avenger friends, he wasn’t about to trust him.

Had it been good to see Thor get smacked around, the way Loki had been, back in New York? Of course it had. There was a certain kind of satisfaction to be gotten from that, after everything Loki had suffered at the hands of Thor and his friends. If that was petty, no one had ever _truly_ accused him of being any other way.

What he was doing now, though, Loki wasn’t sure about.

This kind of thing could get him in trouble with the Grandmaster if he were to find out about it, of that Loki was sure. The contenders were supposed to stay in their dungeon, and the only reason Thor wasn’t being thrown back down there was because he could serve more of a purpose. The people had responded well to him, and the Grandmaster recognized that, even if he hadn’t been happy about it. That meant that Thor was going to get preferential treatment, and get to share the suite that belonged to the Hulk.

Walking into the large, red and white room, Loki was mentally kicking himself for not figuring this out sooner. He supposed, in the midst of partying and living it up, it had never really occurred to him to find out who this champion was. He’d been more focused on figuring the Grandmaster out than solving _this_ mystery.

The Hulk was a beast, and therefore, this room made sense. He wasn’t here right now. He was still down in the arena, being showered with praise, and gifts, and attention, for the great bout he’d had. The Grandmaster had made sure that Thor’s limp form was removed from the arena before he threw a couple more guys at the Hulk, reminded the people why they loved _him_ more than the newcomer. Loki had been able to slip away, then.

Now, he was climbing the short set of stairs, checking over his shoulder again to make sure they were alone, and kneeling next to Thor’s body.

He was still out cold. Understandable. He’d been hit pretty damn hard, and the Grandmaster had made his people give him something ‘for the pain’. Likely, he was sleeping it off. There wouldn’t be much pain left when he woke up. So long as that gigantic moron didn’t stomp in here and step on him once he was done getting praised for being brainless.

They’d also stripped him down to his pants, and the effect made it obvious that Thor had taken a beating in the ring. Loki drifted his fingers over the curve of his side, careful not to press on anything that might hurt, watching his chest rise and fall. At least he was breathing.

They’d cut Thor’s hair. Loki didn’t remember the last time he’d seen it this short, or if he ever had. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers through the short strands, watching Thor’s eyelids flicker, but not open. He wasn’t going to wake any time soon.

Loki just wanted to see him..

When Thor had arrived on Asgard, Loki’s first reaction had been annoyance. Thor was going to cut his happiness and freedom short. For years, now, Loki had acted as Odin, and Asgard had done well. _He_ had done well. Thor wouldn’t agree, of course, but he had. And Loki had been right. One of Thor’s first moves had been to drag him to Midgard to find their father.

Somewhere between his annoyance and slight panic at Thor’s reappearance, Loki had felt something else. Something old and familiar that he’d thought he’d buried deep enough, after all this time, that it wouldn’t reemerge again.

This always happened.

Every time Loki thought he’d murdered those feelings, done away with them, buried their broken corpses so far down that they would never see the light again, they came back, stronger and brighter than before. It was infuriating. One of the most frustrating things he’d ever had to deal with.

Especially because, now, after everything he’d done, Thor would never give him that in return. Loki had done too much to break his trust, shatter his belief. In the wake of losing Odin, after finally, _finally_ hearing the pride and love in his voice that he’d coveted for so long, it was almost too much for Loki to bear.

It was fine, thinking Thor was lost out in the cosmos, because Thor always came out on top.

Being confronted with him, Loki couldn’t ignore the way he felt, the sensation of those claws gripping at his heart, crawling back up from deep inside, coming home to roost once more.

Loki carded his fingers through Thor’s hair again, and then brushed them down the line of his jaw, over that rough beard, seeing the hint of a bruise behind it.

There was nothing to lose. Not really.

Thor was lost in a medicated haze. The room was empty. The Grandmaster knew nothing of his whereabouts, and Loki didn’t know where Heimdall was, but if Hela was on Asgard, he would be far too preoccupied with that to be listening in on the princes.

After another glance over his shoulder, Loki leaned down, pressing his lips to Thor’s. Soft, gentle, careful. He couldn’t wake him, and Thor couldn’t respond. He couldn’t do more than that, giving Thor something he wouldn’t know about, leaving him with a touch Loki hadn’t been able to give him in years.

“I love you.” He breathed, running his hands down Thor’s neck, over his shoulders. Down his chest, until he could lay his palm over the space where Thor’s heart would be. His skin was warm, at least. That was a small blessing; he wasn’t freezing, in here. “I love you, you enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Loki froze, looking over his shoulder. Not just one set, and not all the same size. There was a notable heaviness to one of those pairs of feet that let Loki know that the matches were over, and the champion was coming home.

Turning back, Loki left one final, light kiss on Thor’s forehead, and hurried from the room, disguising himself as he passed the Hulk and his entourage, among them a group of women that Loki knew to be healers, on this planet.

They would be going for Thor. Good. At least he was being taken care of.

Now.

Thor was here, and he’d at least been brought up from the dungeons. Despite his earlier refusal, Loki wasn’t ready to leave Thor behind in his quest to gain a foothold, here on Sakaar.

Loki had work to do.

Hopefully, Thor managed to stay out of trouble long enough for him to get it done.


End file.
